The music was deafeningly loud; strobes flashed incessantly giving the otherwise dark room a surreal ambiance.
My hips gyrated; my feet, clad in black stilettos, moved to an ethereal metallic ‘techno’ beat.
My hands roamed oh so suggestively over my body and lingered as my finger tips cupped and caressed my breasts through a black leather top — no more than a bra, really; not stitched, but riveted.
I could not help but notice young men all around the dance floor ignoring their dance partners and ogling my ultra tight black leather pants.
Pants, which formed a deep crease between my ass cheeks then disappeared between my legs and reappeared in front; parting the lips of my cunt and leaving little to the imagination. Black body paint would scarcely have been more revealing.
Oh, and the
